It's not what it looks like
by Jane Doe1111
Summary: Helga's parents leave her unsupervised, and she makes more than a few mistakes. Are the consequences fatal?


Time for another happy, uplifting fic from me! I don't know why I pick on Helga so much, I guess I see a lot of myself in her, and project my own experiences upon her.

I have no filter on myself, so I don't know if this will get to be too much for some people. Good luck?

Just a one-shot, the first part is Helga's POV, the others are third person. Have fun.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold, if I did, there would have been a second movie.

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"Yeah, okay, Miriam. Have fun, go on. Dad's waiting." I practically shoved my mother out the door. My parents planned a 'family vacation' to Las Vegas while we were on Spring break – Just Bob, Miriam, and Olga. They had booked reservations everywhere for 3 people, and by the time they remembered that they had a second daughter, it was too late.

Not that I minded, I'm just 16 – it's not like I could actually do anything in Vegas aside from swim and stay in the hotel all day, and I could do that without leaving the house. I'm... used to being forgotten, to being left behind. The most impressive thing about the entire ordeal was that my parents had actually remembered to say 'good-bye' as they left. Not that I'm bitter, no skin off my nose... I was looking forward to my week alone, I thought it was going to be an awesome week.

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I figured out that this week was going to suck pretty soon. Six hours after my family left, I had watched so much wrestling that I actually got tired of it. Me. Helga G. Pataki got TIRED of wrestling. Phoebe was AWOL- probably with Geraldo, and after spending the day lounging on the couch, I didn't have the energy to find... anyone... to do anything. On top of all of this, I got a nasty fuck-off migraine that ruined my day.

I gave up on finding anything to do, I just wanted to sleep, but my body decided it was just going to say 'fuck you' to me and wouldn't go to sleep. I made my way to the bathroom and picked up a bottle of benadryl. I've been using it to help me sleep since I figured out it did more than make me not die when Bob forgets about my strawberry allergy. With the threat of impending anaphylactic shock, It's kind of a necessity to have a healthy supply in the house.

You know, the first time I had a reaction, Miriam shuffled around the house like a madwoman on tranquilizers trying to find the little box. If I hadn't tripped over it on my way out of the kitchen, I might not have made it out of the experience alive. After the hives went down, I slept like I hadn't slept in months. I... guess it was the feeling of being unable to do anything, unable to fight, unable to think, unable even to walk that entranced me. For all my life, I've had to fight and struggle for everything I have. You know, for all the wrong reasons, being unable to fight was freeing, and I found myself intentionally overdosing on the medication more.

It's not that I'm addicted to them, you know. If I wanted to, I could totally stop using them and there would be nothing making me go back to it. But... I like that feeling. It's almost comforting. I can just let go... Since there's nothing I can do, I can just... relax at let things happen.

I uh... I took about 25 pills. It seems like a lot, but it wasn't like I was trying to kill myself or anything. I just wanted to sleep! It started with just a little... but 2 pills turned into 4 pills... which turned into 8, which turned into 12 and...well. You get the idea. I did my research, I know it wasn't enough to kill me. I wasn't trying to die, really. I mean, it's not like anyone would miss me anyway, but that wasn't what I was trying to do. I got some water and washed it down. I got a water bottle, because that shit dehydrates you bad, and I was going to drink it all.

That's when I made my first mistake. I guess you could count taking all that benadryl as my first mistake, but I would have been okay if it had just stopped there.

I guess you know already – Miriam is a recovering alcoholic. She gave it up a couple years ago, but the bottles are still lying around the house. Olga tried to get rid of them once, and I think Miriam actually started crying. Her sponsor said it was probably a better idea if she got rid of them on her own accord, but she never got around to it. I was already feeling... impulsive, so I dragged out one of her half empty bottles of vodka and made myself a screwdriver. I was already starting to my stomach cramping up as the capsules in my stomach were dissolving. After a couple drinks I went upstairs to enjoy the ride. That was almost fun, it felt like I was wearing pillows on my feet made of really soft cement. Yeah... weird, but kind of cool.

I got in bed and laid down. I was starting to feel kind of weird. I figured it was because I took a lot more benadryl than I was used to. My stomach really hurt and I kept hearing Olga singing next door. I was so sick and tired of her stupid voice so I got out of bed and walked to her room. This might have been another mistake. It was more like crawling at this point, but whatever.

"OLGA, SHUT UP, STOP SINGING!" I pounded against the door, actually thinking she was on the other side. The door opened and I spilled into the empty room, still hearing the annoying singing. I lied on her carpet for a minute, hoping the room would stop spinning. It didn't. I figured it was about time I try to get rid of some of the crap in my stomach, if I was hearing stuff, I definitely took more than I could handle. I crawled to the bathroom and tried to puke it out. Didn't work. I sloppily splashed some water on my face and tried to go back to bed, but I knocked something over. I don't even know what it was, but it shattered on the ground. I tripped and fell on the ground, right on the broken glass.

I'm not sure how long I was out, but when I woke up, there was a lot of blood. More than a lot, and a lot more than there should be. I mean, all things considered, there shouldn't be ANY blood, but there was a lot of it, and my arms really hurt. I managed to get a look at them before blacking out again – they looked... bad. I guess I slammed my arms into the broken whatever, they were really cut up. I remember wanting to wash the blood off my arms, but I couldn't reach the sink, it was too far away, so I slid over to the bathtub. After trying to wash the blood off my arms I stated to realize that the blood wasn't stopping and that this was probably a really... REALLY bad idea.

I was starting to realize just how fucked I was. I had taken a shit-ton of advil for that migraine, and had been drinking, and had taken another shit-ton of antihistamines... Crimeny... I really fucked up there, didn't I?

I saw my phone on the floor, I guess it fell out of my pocket when I blacked out. I hit speed-dial 2, Phoebe's number. I was so dehydrated at this point, I could barely get the words out.

"Pheebs... I... need help. Fucked up... call ambulance..."

Imagine my surprise when I heard, not Phoebe's voice, but a man's voice. Your voice.

"_Helga?_ What happened, are you okay?"

I checked the phone number, I guess I hit the 3 instead of 2, yeah you're in my speed-dial, don't get a big head over it, football-head.

"f..fuck. Arnold? J-just call an ambulance, send it... to my house."

"Helga, I'm coming over. I'm gonna call the ambulance, and I'm going to come over. Just hold on."

"Yeah... what-whatever floats... your boat. I'm upstairs... Just... It's uh... not ...what it looks like."

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Arnold burst through the front door, still on the line with the ambulance dispatcher. He ran upstairs, looking for Helga. He called her name, but heard nothing in reply. He checked in her room, finding it empty, he ran to the other rooms, checking them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the door to the bathroom half open, with a pale arm extended beyond it. He shouted instructions to the dispatcher and ran to the door.

Helga's skin was cold to the touch, and her pulse was weak. Arnold tore the sleeves from his sweater and wrapped her bleeding arms. He repeated her words over and over in his mind, trying to think of how this could be anything other than what it looked like... Helga's eyes fluttered and she managed to croak out " s-sorry." before losing consciousness again.

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"And uh. I guess you know the rest, Arnold." Helga looked away, embarrassed that Arnold had seen her like that, and that he had to be the one to save her. She tried to sneak a look at Arnold, unsure of his reaction the entire time.

He was looking at the ground. His skin was pale and he looked like he had aged 30 years in an hour. He was silent.

"I uh... thank you, ...Arnold. For saving me. I'm... I'm sorry you had to see that, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay, Helga. Just... don't do this again. Please." Without looking at her, Arnold stood up and walked away.

"Arnold, wait! I-"

"Don't worry, Helga. I won't tell anyone. This'll just be between us. I'll see you in school." He turned to leave again. He almost missed her whimper.

"I'm sorry..." She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, as she brought her knees to her stomach, no caring that he could see her cry. Arnold watched as she visibly shrank. She seemed so small and frail now, she had always seemed so strong, this was a side he had never seen of her. Her vision was so blinded by tears, she didn't see him come closer to her. He sat on the hospital bed and put his arms around her.

She clung to him like a lifeline. They stayed that way until she could cry no longer, and then sat in the silence, until gentle sleep took Helga once more.

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End.

R&R 3


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